Take Shelter
by brynerose
Summary: It's the end of an era-the first real taste of freedom after growing up in a fishbowl, the moment Douglas and TJ have been waiting for. But in the midst of a snowstorm, what they get might not be what they expect, and it certainly won't be as easy as they think. Rated for dark themes, occasional language, and some mildly graphic moments. Nothing explicit, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So…wow. 1) I'm sooo dating myself with some of these references. Like, I have actually reached that point in life. 2) I really didn't expect all of this from a few days of binge writing. Also, I really need work to start up again already…too much time to burn on this. 3) I definitely didn't expect to take such heavy, dark turns (later on in the story, mainly); but sometimes stories forge their own paths as we uncover them. I DID intend for it to be a character study for young Doug & TJ, to explore where they are at one of the pivotal moments of their lives. Perhaps the one that was both freeing and threw everything into chaos. Anyway, enough riddles.**

 **A/N 2: It was a bit funky figuring out exact ages and times, plus the fact that according to the series, I think the presidential elections are actually two years off of the real ones, putting their likely tenure in the White House from 1991 (elected 1990) to 1998. Since only the President, their spouse, and children under 16 continue to receive Secret Service protection after leaving office, I put the boys' birthday theoretically in December so they would already be 16 (which technically only makes them 29 during the show, since it takes place mid-year 2012, but you can't have everything). Also, the Hammond Farm isn't really placed geographically in the series that I can tell, so I'm hinting at it being somewhere in Eastern Virginia, but still in decent proximity to D.C. The rest of the details are fudged, so any readers in that part of the country, I apologize for any inaccuracies. I tried to research what I could, but this is what I do for fun as opposed to my paid work. I'm just too OCD to not try to explain. I'll shut up now.**

* * *

The White House was in a flurry of activity, one that accompanied an occasion surpassing even presidential elections. The handoff of an administration.

"Are you boys sure you don't want to head to the farm with us after the inauguration?" Elaine asked as she put on her jewelry. Bud rolled his eyes, and reached to help her with her necklace.

"Sugar, you've asked every ten minutes since they got up. I think after eight years they've deserved the chance to blow off some steam. It's their first night without professional babysitters, they both just got their driver's license, let 'em stretch their legs a bit."

"That's only because they beat the age cut off by five weeks; they're _barely_ sixteen!" she shot back. "The farm isn't that close, it'll get late quickly, plus the weather service issued a winter storm advisory—"

"Mom, we'll be fine, we promise. It's just a party Sam's throwing for us, at his house, with some kids from school. Then we'll spend the night there, so you're not worried about us driving late, snow or no snow, and come out in the morning," TJ cut in. Elaine fussed over his suit jacket and tie, straightening everything.

"Well, I may trust Sam and his parents, but that doesn't mean I trust all of your friends."

"Oh come on, that was an accident almost a year ago!"

"Was it also an accident that what's-his-name brought alcohol to that party? You had ten stitches and a knee brace for six weeks. 'Almost a year' later you still complain it hurts sometimes, and we all know to what end that came."

TJ rolled his eyes.

"You said you trust Sam's parents, they're like the alcohol Nazis," piped Douglas from the master bathroom.

"As I recall, the same what's-his-name also tried to spike your drink, TJ, thinking he might get a little action," Elaine powered on.

"Being gay does not mean that suddenly every guy is secretly out to get me, _God_ , Mom! And he's not even coming to this one," complained TJ.

"Language," warned Bud.

Douglas took their mother's shoulders. They were as tall as her now. "Nothing is going to happen. I'll keep an eye on him, and I'll have my phone charger just to make sure it can't die on me."

"Great, so I get to trade in the babysitters with guns for one with a massive ego. You trust him, you just don't trust me," TJ grumbled.

" _Thomas_." Elaine stepped around Douglas to check her makeup in the mirror one last time. "Nana's car should be here any minute now to pick you two up. If there's anything you want before you get back to the farm, make sure it's in a bag _and take it with you_. Everything left in the residence is getting packed up and shipped. And make sure to wear your heavier coats."

"Will they at least bring us back after the ceremony so we can get our car?" asked Douglas.

"Yes, they can do that. I'll make sure to let Stanley know it stays put." A knock at the door drew all their attention. "Speaking of the house staff, that's probably your cue. See you there, we love you." In spite of their obvious teenaged disdain, she kissed them both on the forehead. TJ compulsively straighten his gelled hair in response.

. . .

"Dude, so what's it like to finally be free?" Sam asked over the DJ. Douglas put the foosball into his goal with a satisfying _whack_.

"One, it's not like we were born there. I remember how it felt before. Two, it's like I can breathe again. You know, the mall got too crowded, Secret Service was right there. Girlfriend tried to hug you unexpectedly, they're right there. Friends tried to prank you on your birthday, people almost got arrested."

"That was a fun day, though, right?"

"Oh, it was epic." Douglas took the chance as he swigged his Redbull to glance around the room. When he couldn't immediately spot TJ, adrenaline yanked him out of the moment. "Hey, Jeff, tap in for me, will you? I just gotta ask my brother something real quick. Bet I can be back before Sam has any points on the table."

Snow had been coming down steadily since the end of the inauguration speeches. The only light left in the sky was city glow reflecting off of the cloud cover and white blanket already coating D.C. Douglas briefly wondered how well their brand new Mustang was going to do in the morning, but he wasn't going anywhere without certain things, anyway. After one wide loop and checking the major clusters of kids, a lump began to form in his stomach. And then he saw a boy and girl slip in from the back door, noses red from the cold but only one coat between them.

Around the corner, just outside of the security light on that side, another couple pressed against the brickwork of the house, TJ's ridiculous hair in silhouette.

"Are you nuts, it's like 15 degrees out here!" hissed Douglas, his own arms clamped over his chest. The couple jumped apart. The other boy, Christopher, Douglas was pretty sure of his name, snickered.

"Not over here, it's not."

TJ was much less pleased. "Do you mind? As you could probably tell, there wasn't exactly a lot of room to spare inside."

"I just hadn't seen you in a while, and wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"We're not in elementary school anymore, we're not in the _White House_ anymore, so go have your own fun, if that's still possible. Or were you seriously going to spy on me for Mom?"

"No, I was—I thought you might—"

"Look, I didn't mean to step in the middle of something," blustered Christopher. Or maybe it was Zack.

"You didn't, he's just my brother, and he's going now, since apparently it's too cold for him," TJ countered, but the kid was already gone. "Thanks. We weren't doing anything you wouldn't do." He pulled a small bottle from his jeans pocket, shook something out, and popped whatever it was in his mouth. Douglas stared at his twin.

"And what was that supposed to be?"

"My knee's bugging me, lay off."

Douglas snatched the bottle before TJ could hide it again. "Bullshit, I did the same thing to my knee in basketball three years ago, and I didn't need _codeine_ a year afterward. Who'd you get this from by the way?"

"Language, Dougie," TJ said in a mocking imitation of their dad.

"We're doing this again, really? Mom about had a heart attack when she found out last time!"

"Because of course you're going to run and tell her like the good little snitch you are." TJ's sarcastic expression didn't flinch as Douglas grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him back against the wall. Before either of them could say anything else, however, the door opened around the corner and a voice called out.

"Douglas? TJ, are you out here? The pizza just arrived." It was a girl's voice. Lindsay, Douglas' girlfriend.

"How many did you just take?" Douglas redoubled his grip when TJ didn't answer. "Tell me! I want to know if I'm going to have to explain to the Petersons why my brother is tripping all over his own ass or not!"

"Three, but it's a lower dosage than I've gotten in the past," TJ grudgingly conceded.

"Get inside and get some pizza and water. Maybe that'll at least make it less obvious. And I don't care if you're out here sucking face with someone, at least do it with a coat on."

"Sure, _Mom_. You know, tonight was supposed to be about fun, and freedom…" TJ shoved past Douglas' shoulder to head for the door. After a couple deep breaths, Douglas followed.

Lindsay waited just inside the door, a concerned expression on her face. "Everything okay?"

"Dealing with my pain of a brother, that's all," sighed Douglas. "C'mon, I'm starving."

A couple energy drinks, several slices of pizza, and a few rounds of Dance Dance Revolution later, 6pm turned into 11:30pm. Kids started to trickle home. The DJ packed up for the night. Douglas realized his phone was almost dead—that's when he got the text message.

 _Ptmc undgr club ok but sos tj_

His mouth fell open the longer he stared at the phone screen. The Potomac Underground was on the far side of town. When did TJ even leave, and how did he not notice?! Douglas glanced at the window. Snow was coming down even harder now. The DJ had mentioned after the last song that weather reports projected as much as fourteen inches before morning, and to be aware that the District was implementing a snow emergency starting at midnight until the trucks could put a dent in the roads. Crap.

"Sam? Sam!" Douglas rushed over to his friend, who was at the door saying goodbye to people. "Listen, apparently TJ got sick of the party, and…hitched a ride with someone else back to the city for some reason. Now he's at our grandmother's place…but can't find his key, she gave each of us one, and she's still with our parents. I gotta go after him before this weather gets worse."

"It's the fricken ice age out there. You won't make it back before the roads close," argued Sam.

"We'll just crash there. I can make it before midnight."


	2. Chapter 2

It was twenty minutes from the Petersons' to the club alone, but Douglas took the roads as fast as he dared. Outside the shabby door, a figure huddled in the least-drifted corner. TJ looked awful, weather notwithstanding. Douglas knew that look.

"Are you insane?! Seriously, did you just lose your mind as soon as Dad was no longer in office?" he couldn't help but exclaim as his brother stumbled into the car.

"I started feeling not too great, so I told the others I was calling you to pick me up. None of them wanted to leave yet. Then I couldn't get a good enough signal, so I came out here, and then the weather thing came up, and they shut everything down. I couldn't find 'em. I'm sorry…"

"We're never going to get back to the Peterson's in time, or even Nana's at this point. That's where I told the Peterson's we were going, but I lied about having a spare key while you somehow didn't. Might as well head for the farm, since it's out of town this direction, and they usually start early with the highways." Douglas put the car in gear, though he didn't like how the back slid around a bit to get going. Only when they had some decent momentum did he let his anxiety get the better of him. "So what all did you take, TJ?"

"What? What does that have to—"

" _Don't_ jerk me around, you look like hell, and it's not just from being outside."

"I don't see what difference it would make—"

"Aside from the codeine from earlier, _what did you take at the club_ —"

"I don't know! I don't, okay? There were pills passed around! And other stuff, but you know I don't go that far. I can tell you I didn't drink any alcohol this time. I only used a fake ID to get in the door. We were having fun. It just became a blur…"

Speaking of blur, Douglas nearly fishtailed into a median obscured by the snow as he turned left toward the interstate. Maybe they should have included these kinds of conditions in driver's ed. The highway itself was marginally better, but still unnervingly slick. "I should have thought of the nearest hospital, and headed for that…"

"No! It's not that bad, Dougie, I just need to warm up, get some sleep, and I'll be fine in the morning."

"You do realize how stupid that sounds right now, right?"

"Oh, just because you're Captain Perfect in Mom and Dad's eyes—"

"That's not fair, TJ—"

"Ever since that fight that got me suspended, or getting caught with the little airplane bottles of vodka—which you were in on too, by the way—or getting outed on national television, I just can't do anything right."

"You being outed had nothing to do with it, never did, and that was definitely not your fault," Douglas retorted.

"Mom and Dad sent me to a _boarding school_ , as if that was going to magically straighten me out!"

"Okay, did you really just say that?"

"You know what I mean!"

"You're running around sneaking off to clubs with a fake ID, and popping codeine like it's candy, and all sorts of other crap. Don't think I don't notice when you cologne the hell out of a sweatshirt sometimes because it smells like pot. Or when we go with Mom and Dad on foreign trips, and you try to pass a hangover off as jet lag. And you got kicked out of that boarding school by Thanksgiving break, for the record."

"I didn't know you kept a running tally—look out!"

A curve turned sharper than it looked, owing to a rest stop exit lane not far past the state line, which put the cap of the guardrail straight ahead. Tired but on edge, Douglas overcompensated, and their whole back end went sliding sideways. He kept expecting them to crash into something solid, but all they hit was a snowdrift that splashed a little ways up to the driver's side roof.

"Dammit!" he bellowed, pounding a fist on the steering wheel.

"We couldn't have just left the dissection of my issues for _after_ we made it to the farm? This whole idea was crazy!" TJ berated him.

"Well you were the one who couldn't just suck it up and stay at the Petersons' in the first place. We wouldn't have even been in this mess. But no, no one else matters except for TJ—"

"Come on, it can't be that hard for one of us to get out and push. We can be back out there in a few minutes."

"Well, that would be you, genius, since I'm already in the driver's seat, and my door is blocked by snow."

"At least gimme your gloves. Mine are in my bag in the trunk, since they don't fit in these coat pockets."

Douglas rolled his eyes, and reluctantly handed them over. He shut off the radio so he would be able to hear outside over the engine.

"Okay, on the count of three…"

He felt the car rock a couple times, but the snow underneath quickly wore down to a slight backward incline. Of course they would find a ditch to land in, in a Mustang of all cars. TJ reappeared, his front covered in kicked-up slush.

"I can't push it enough by myself."

"We can't just stay in here all night with where it is now, either." Angrily, Douglas shut off the engine. "Guess Mom was right to insist on those blankets and things in the trunk. That rest stop is 24-bour access. I have to charge my phone anyway; there should be an outlet where I can do that. Come on."

They cleared the snow as much as possible to get their bags without burying them as soon as the trunk opened. Anything else useful would require a second trip. It was only maybe a 200-foot walk to the little out building, but it felt like a mile with the harsh weather. Halfway there, TJ was definitely having trouble with the deepening snow. Maybe it was just from having been out in the cold longer…Douglas suspected, however, that whatever drugs his brother had taken were playing a part as well.

"Just—gotta—get—this—far enough," he grunted, using the door to pack the snow out of the way. "Gimme your bag, I'll slide those in, and then we can get inside."

TJ nodded without saying anything. Despite any exposed skin starting to turn red with cold, Douglas noticed that sweat clung to the fringe of hair around TJ's ear. After the bags, he ushered TJ in first. His twin nearly wiped out on the tile floor beyond the doormat, thanks to the amount of melting snow on his lower extremities. Douglas barely caught him while avoiding getting stuck halfway in the door. He had always been a little bigger than TJ.

"Let go, I'm fine. I just stepped wrong, is all."

"Again, I call bull. You've got 'drug high' written all over you, even if I didn't know about earlier. And how could you just take stuff without keeping track? What if something interacted, or was tainted? What if someone did try to knock you out and do something?"

"Dude, now you're worse than Mom. I wasn't just taking anything and everything from whoever walked by, but it is about living in the moment. Letting yourself get swept away a bit. You could use a little of that from time to time, you know…"

"Do you at least remember a ball park of how many?"

"Mostly I stuck to my own stuff. Might have been some Ex going around. I don't know, I just didn't wanna think anymore."

Douglas picked up and tossed their bags toward the middle of the space. "Start getting out of those wet clothes. I don't need you getting sick on top of all this. I'll go out and get as much as I can carry. How much change do you have in your wallet, by the way?"

"Just go, I'll let you know once you get back."

Once more Douglas bundled up as best he could to venture out. Of all things, they had to pick a white Mustang. The car was almost invisible in the blowing snow, their tracks already rapidly disappearing. _Just get there, get back._ He almost dropped his keys fumbling for the trunk lock. The blankets they needed for sure, first aid kit probably a good idea; he looped the emergency lamp and radio onto his arms just in case. The rest stop had indoor water fountains, so he wasn't going to bother with the case of water bottles. If he tried to carry anything else, he might sink entirely into the snow, the way things were going. Now he just had to make the trek one more time.

Immediately he knew TJ would be no help. His brother was only halfway out of the clothes he had been wearing, sitting slumped against one wall, shivering. At least his eyes were open, that much Douglas could tell. But he wasn't doing well at all no matter what he tried to say. Douglas did his best to squeeze everything through without dropping stuff in the snow or slipping and falling.

"TJ? Hey, can you hear me?"

TJ only rocked his head in the direction of the question. Douglas would have to go with that.

"Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Got…real shaky all of a sudden. Wasn' sure I could stay standing. Feeling kinda sick…"

"Well, that can happen when you get carried away in the moment," sighed Douglas. He found a dry spot to put the stuff down, wrestled out of his own soaked shoes, socks, and coat, and started checking TJ over.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, this chapter gets rather on the squeamish side, just a warning, but nothing explicit or gory. What can I say, drugs are bad :)**

* * *

TJ's skin was burning up, his pulse racing. As if that wasn't enough, his breathing sounded a lot more labored than Douglas remembered. He hoped it was just the exertion of the past several minutes. "Aw, TJ…hang in there, I'll get something to cool you down."

"Wait…I think—" Suddenly TJ lurched to the side, toward the trash can on the other side of the bathroom alcove. Douglas got the picture, hauling him by his shirt and one arm just in time for TJ to empty his stomach into the receptacle. His twin gasped and heaved uncontrollably, only staying upright because of Douglas' grip on him. Douglas tried not to feel sick himself. This had to be the most messed up, awkward situation he had ever been in. And yet, his prior anger began to fade away the more TJ seemed to struggle. All they had was each other right now, no adults, no help. And this was his brother, after all.

An agonizing minute or so passed before the fit appeared to have run its course. TJ shook in earnest now from the exertion, eyes and nose streaming, sweat plastering his hairline. Douglas slipped his shoulders under TJ's arm.

"Come on, let's get you some water to get rid of that taste, and then I'll get something to cool you down," he coaxed. His back was not happy with the awkward angle it took to support TJ so he could reach the drinking fountain, not that it could be helped. Once that was over, he got TJ situated against the wall again and hurried into the bathroom. Paper towels were probably the best bet. Douglas dispensed a good supply, folded and soaked a couple, and went back out.

TJ had closed his eyes, though he was still upright.

"Hey, stay with me. If we can't be sure what you took, then we gotta wait the stuff out. I'm not going to be responsible for you slipping into a coma or something."

Douglas gently shook TJ's arm. TJ grimaced. "So tired…"

"I know, I am too. I'm gonna need to fish out some cash in a bit and try out that coffee machine, maybe a snack. You may be sweating right now, but I'm still freezing from running around outside."

"Ugh, don't mention food right now…can't I jus' lay down…?"

"Tell you what—stay awake while I get some stuff set up, we'll finish getting into some dry clothes, and I'll let you lay down, okay? Just keep yourself going until then. Here, the outlet's right next to you. Get my phone plugged in while you wait."

Douglas' extremities were beginning to go numb despite the relative warmth of the little shelter. Dry clothes first. Both of them had really only packed to change out of their suits from inauguration, so those would have to do. He hung their coats on doorknobs, and laid his jeans close to one of the heaters. That gave him the idea to put the wet paper towels by the door for a while to make them colder. Then he pulled out TJ's clothes. His brother was more thoroughly soaked, but had only gotten as far as his shoes and sweatshirt. Of course, he wasn't happy to have Douglas tugging at the rest.

"'M not a baby…"

"Well, unless you're going to start moving around more, it's not going to happen by itself. Help me out, here."

With much grumbling and more awkward maneuvers, they got TJ into his suit pants and undershirt. Enough of their initial snowy tracks had dried up to be able to walk around in dress socks without too much trouble. Douglas counted about twenty bucks between their wallets, a few of which he used for a piping hot cup of coffee, a Snickers bar for himself, and some plain snack crackers for TJ. He also retrieved one of the paper towels.

"I don't think I could handle food right now…" groaned TJ.

"They're just for easy reach when you think you're ready. Here, lean over onto this." Douglas had one blanket wrapped around himself. He mostly unfolded the other one so TJ could lay down with his head in Douglas' lap, as well as have a layer for cover. Feverish as he was, his wiry frame still shook with chills, and he was too out of it to protest. Douglas pressed the cold paper towel to his brother's face. "How's that?"

"Little better…head 'n stomach not so unsteady like this…"

TJ's pulse was still faster than Douglas liked. On his other side, his phone blinked that it was charging, but the screen said 'NO SIGNAL.' Great. He flipped on the storm radio just to have something to listen to. His choices were static, a 30- or so second sound byte of the current weather conditions and warnings on repeat, and a truckers' station that faded in and out.

Around 2 am, according to his watch, TJ agreed to try some crackers. Douglas got a second cup of coffee, rinsing the first out to have some water on hand, and switched out the paper towels (the new one had to be rewetted, but it was good and cold).

"I'm sorry about all this…" his brother mumbled as the radio voice reduced to a buzz for a few seconds.

"We can't change the past, and there's nothing we can do about the storm. So we just try to keep going."

"Any luck with your phone?"

"The signal's about as bad as the radio. Last time I flipped over to the weather, though, it said this thing's supposed to clear up by around six. Once my phone's finished charging I was going to plug yours in to have another one handy. See if it has any better luck."

TJ squirmed. He couldn't seem to get comfortable no matter how either of them tried to adjust. They spent several minutes like this with only spotty commercials in the background, until TJ's face contorted and he unsteadily tried to throw off the blanket. "I gotta—" Further explanation was cut off by having to clap a hand to his mouth.

Once again Douglas provided the speed and coordination TJ lacked. This was a less clean save, however. The first disgustingly chunky bits hit the rim of the can as they reached it. TJ moaned pitifully between bouts of retching, a sound that really tore at Douglas' heart. No matter who was to blame for them ending up this way, he hated seeing his twin brother so miserable and being unable to stop it.

"Uggh…that was horrible…" TJ finally croaked, his voice echoing slightly given that he had his head resting on one arm draped across the back of the trash can rim. He spat every so often, trying to breathe normally.

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," replied Douglas, one hand on TJ's back to make sure he didn't fall over.

TJ made a noise that was dangerously close to tearful. "We might need to move."

"You feeling lightheaded? Something else? Or you're not done, you just need to be able to sit—we could try to make it into the bathroom," Douglas guessed frantically.

"Well, bathroom, yeah, but it's because we might have another mess to worry about soon…"

Douglas' wrung out brain clicked, and he hauled TJ up with a new burst of energy. TJ whimpered from the jostling. Douglas steered him to the handicapped stall even though it was the farthest one.

"Why that one…?"

"Because if you pass out I'm not pilling into a tiny stall to get you. There are bars to hold onto, and plenty of room."

"You're _not_ staying in there with me—"

"Dude, that's record gross, which is saying something given tonight's track record. Do what you need to do. I'm going get some more water, and then I will wait right here, _outside_ , to make sure you're okay. Don't lock that door, in case I do have to come after you."

"Not sure I could work it right now if I wanted…"

This was getting beyond terrifying. With no sleep, no medical knowledge, no clue as to what was happening, Douglas honestly wondered if his brother was dying. He snatched his phone to take with him, despite it being doubtful he would get better reception in a bathroom rather than the lobby. He grabbed one of the blankets, for what it was worth, and topped off the water on his way back. Inside the tiled room, all was quiet except for TJ's hitched breathing.

"You still in one piece?" Douglas asked tentatively. He tried his best to ignore the smell.

"You mean I've been in one piece up 'til now?" came the strained retort.

"What can I say, drugs are bad for you."

"Shut up, jerk." His tone was a shade toward lighthearted, however. Douglas would take whatever victory he could get at the moment.

"I've got water for you, whenever you want it."

"Not sure I could keep anything down right now…"

"You gotta try something. We can hold off on the crackers, but at some point you're going to need fluids. What if I got you a Gatorade?"

TJ let out a grunt that may or may not have been a suppressed gag.

They lapsed into silence. Douglas set the cup just under the stall partition, hopefully close enough for TJ to reach, and settled with his back against the nearest wall. He tried to ease his state of mild panic by focusing on the sound of TJ's breathing, labored though it was. His phone hovered around one bar, which wouldn't be of any use. It _could_ mean he might have a better chance out in the lobby, but he wasn't going to budge until he knew TJ would be okay.

Douglas only realized he had started to nod off when the room suddenly echoed with the blast of a flushing toilet. His head snapped up so quickly it hit the tile behind him, eliciting a pained string of swearing. His watch read just past 3. Then he wrenched his attention back to the source of the disturbance. "TJ, how're you doing?"

The rustling of clothing was his only answer at first. The fumbled clicking of a belt buckle. A pause—and the sound of someone falling against the stall fixtures. Douglas leapt to his feet.

"TJ!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Douglas' watch read just past 3. "TJ, how're you doing?"_

 _The rustling of clothing was his only answer at first. The fumbled clicking of a belt buckle. A pause—and the sound of someone falling against the stall fixtures. Douglas leapt to his feet._

" _TJ!"_

TJ looked dazed, crumpled against the far wall. He faced Douglas, arms askew as if he had tried to catch himself on the handicapped bar. The side of his left hand was bleeding, possibly from a corner of the metal toilet paper dispenser. A red welt rapidly surfaced on his forehead; he must have glanced the wall on the way down.

"TJ, can you hear me? Hey, hang in there. We're gonna get through this, okay? It's gonna be all right," rambled Douglas.

Apparently this was the last straw. TJ simply broke down, all-out sobbing within seconds. He was sheet-white from being sick, clammy, dark circles under his eyes, and trembling. His shirtfront was stained from leaning over the trashcan, lips dry and cracked, eyes bloodshot when they weren't squeezed shut with how hard he cried. His breathing came in ragged gasps. Douglas sank down beside him, holding a wad of toilet paper to the cut on TJ's hand, and pulling him into a side hug. Who cared, it's not like there was anyone else to see them.

"I c-c-can't take it an-n-n-nymore, Dougie! I mean—I know it's—all m-m-my fault, b-but—but it's never—been this b-b-b-b—bad! 'N th' s-snow, an'—"

"Don't worry about any of that right now. I've got you, I'm right here, you and me."

"I just w-w-wish it would—" TJ fought for air, "end alr-ready! Jus' let it end…"

"It'll be over before you know it, and you'll be fine."

"Not jus' th-this, Dougie…Mom an' D-D-Dad an' the—p-p-pictures, an' stories—an' the _pressure_ …I hate it! It all hurts-s-s-s so much, I jus' wish I could s-s—top it, stop it all!"

Those last words plunged down Douglas' back like ice. He had no idea if TJ even knew what he was saying. By all appearances he had never shown such an inclination tonight or any other night, and yet this emotion had to have built up somewhere. First term, second term, each new affair of their dad's, involuntarily coming out of the closet, all the schedules and protocols and expectations, one guess was as good as the next. It was enough to screw up anyone for life. Douglas just wished he knew why it hit TJ so much harder than himself.

"Listen, it's going to get better. We're finally going to get to live our own lives. We can do what it takes to get you clean, so this stuff isn't hanging over your head. We'll figure it out," he said softly. TJ took some time to get himself together a little.

"But it's never really going to end, is it? Mom and Dad aren't just going to quit politics, it's what they live for. People will still talk about Dad's affairs long after the fact, even if he never does it again—how much you wanna bet on that? I'll always be the novelty queer druggie of the White House. This is what we are, this screwed up family…"

"Stop talking like that! We're not perfect, and probably far from it relatively speaking. But we can't let that be the only way we define ourselves!" Douglas paused to check on the cut and where TJ hit his head. Neither looked too bad, in the scope of things. He also pulled away just far enough to grab the blanket from under the ajar stall door. "Rest here for a while. If you're feeling up to it in a bit, we can try heading out to the rest of the stuff. Sure you don't want to try some water?"

TJ nodded, utterly exhausted.

Douglas settled into the corner so he didn't have to brace TJ by himself. Blanket draped over both of them, TJ leaned over so his head rested on Douglas' shoulder from the side. He still had chills, but they weren't quiet as pronounced.

"Dougie?"

"Yeah, TJ?"

"Thank you. I know…this has to be probably the worst night of your life. It's definitely mine, even after being pulled out of the closet. But you didn't hesitate for anything. I just wanted to say that I am grateful for that."

"Anything for you, bro. As long as you don't go making this a habit."

TJ snorted, an almost-laugh. Douglas smiled.

"Take it easy for a bit."

. . .

It was a small movement that made all the difference. Barely a stir, might not be worth waking up, even. Wait, waking up?

Douglas jerked upright, in itself not a huge move as only his head had slipped to the side. His cheek felt numb, having been forcefully unstuck from cold tile, after apparently resting that way for a while. He checked his watch—almost 6:30 in the morning. It was his heart that truly jumped into action, remembering that he had vowed to stay awake in case anything else happened to TJ.

His twin brother was the one who had stirred first, his face twisted in discomfort, but otherwise nothing was out of place. Well, aside from the fact that they sat on the floor of a rest stop bathroom, forced to wait out a snowstorm.

"Hey, TJ, wakey-wakey," Douglas groaned, trying to stretch while moving TJ as little as possible. TJ reflexively sucked in a deep breath, perhaps less hampered than he had been for the last few hours.

"Nnnnn?"

"You doing okay?"

"Hurts…"

"I bet we're both pretty cramped up after dozing off on the bathroom floor…"

"No… _hurts._ "

Douglas instantly went on alert. "What hurts, what's wrong?"

"Stomach…head, chest…muscles just…ache…" TJ's expression flinched as he tried to shift position.

"Still feeling nauseous?"

"Not as much…"

"What if I got you out to the lobby, and you could lay down for real again? Maybe take some pain meds from the first aid kit?"

TJ shrugged, so Douglas took that as a yes. Tossing off the blanket (and bracing for a few moments of cold) he slowly got both of them on their feet. The side where they had slumped together was soaked with sweat, but TJ didn't feel quite so feverish anymore. They made the journey without incident, though TJ was visibly relieved to sit down again. Douglas surveyed the situation.

"Don't lay down just yet. Let's get you into a cleanish shirt first. You can have my undershirt from yesterday."

"Huh? Oh…yeah," TJ processed out loud, looking down at his front. He allowed Douglas to help him with the t-shirt switch, followed by his own dress shirt just to have something over his arms. The clothes he had been wearing when they arrived here were still damp. Douglas stuffed a few relatively dry items into one of their backpacks, and set it up at the head of the still-half-folded blanket on the floor so TJ would have a pillow of sorts.

"How's that?"

"Not a bad nurse, for a straight guy," mumbled TJ, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. Douglas tapped his shoulder with a loose fist.

"Beggars can't be choosers, but I'm glad it's helping. You think you could drink enough water to take a couple Motrin or something from the kit?"

TJ contemplated this for a moment or two, then slowly nodded. Douglas stiffly rose, retrieved the other blanket and cup of water from the bathroom, and grabbed the little travel first aid box. TJ took the pills without too much difficulty, which hopefully would stay that way. Douglas also took a piece of gauze and some medical tape to cover the cut on TJ's hand. The welt on his forehead was a dark blotchy purple, but nothing more than that.

"You relax for a while, just let me know if anything doesn't feel right. I'm gonna get a couple things for myself, okay?"

"What time is it?"

"6:30, going on 7. It'll be getting light out before too long." Douglas fished out some more cash, deciding on Pop Tarts, a trail mix bar, and one more cup of coffee. The lobby was drafty with its glass doors on either end. Improvised breakfast in hand, he wrapped up in the other blanket with his back against the wall. The radio hummed pointlessly, so he switched it off. TJ watched him, more alert than he had been in hours.

"You know, this would almost be like a fun camping adventure, if I didn't feel like crap."

"Sounds like you're in a better mood, so at least maybe not as crappy as you felt earlier?"

"True. I was kind of in and out for a lot of it, which made it worse, I think. Must've been bad, if I managed to fall asleep sitting up like that."

"We were both pretty worn out by then."

"Bet I said some wild stuff, though. You never know what's gonna ramble out when you're, well, you know…"

"Yeah…" agreed Douglas. He didn't have the heart to ask exactly how much TJ remembered. This had to be the most relaxed moment of the whole ordeal, and anyway, perhaps it was for the best that some things be left to the blankness of drug fog.

A rapid beeping tune startled both of them. TJ's phone, which was still plugged in, suddenly came to life. The screen displayed 'MOM.' Douglas froze.

"Oh God, she's gonna kill us."

TJ half-rose and twisted around. "What's up?"

"No, you stay put. I'll try to think of something."


	5. Chapter 5

Swallowing hard, nervous energy driving him to his feet, Douglas hit the green button before it could go to voicemail. "Hey, Mom."

" _TJ—or Douglas, it's harder to tell on the phone—as long as the two of you are in the same place. Are you all right?"_ Elaine's voice rambled over the phone.

"We're safe, Mom. And it's Dougie."

" _Carolyn Peterson just called me asking if we'd heard from you—something about TJ feeling sick, and you two leaving early to stay at your grandmother's. But she's still here with us, and nobody was picking up on the house phone, and with cell service so spotty—"_

"I promise, Mom, we're okay. TJ's phone must somehow get better reception than mine." He threw a wry glanced at TJ, who snickered. "We tried to go to Nana's, except we couldn't find a spare key to get in, so we didn't know what to do, and…well, thought we could make it home, with the city shutting down local roads."

" _Oh my God, Douglas, we would have rather dealt with the ticket to get you back to the Petersons—they tried to drive here anyway, Bud, I'll tell you guys in a minute."_ Their mom alternated talking over the phone and updating everyone in the room with her. _"Please tell me you haven't been stuck in the snow all night. This is exactly why I vouched for anything except sports cars. Don't look at me like that Bud, I was perfectly right!"_

"No, we got to a rest stop. Well, I mean, we slid into a snow drift at the rest stop, so we couldn't get anywhere after that, but the car's fine, we got inside fine. You can be happy that everything you made us keep in the trunk came in handy."

" _And how's TJ?"_

"Hi, Mom," TJ chimed in hoarsely.

"It's been a rough few hours. Whatever it was, bad food, stomach bug, it better not be something I can catch after taking care of him all night," Douglas deflected, though his look was more pointed at his brother this time. "He's doing a little better, though."

" _I still want you to call 911, if you haven't already, just to be safe. I don't know how long it'll be before we can try to get to you. The major roads are supposed to be okay for the most part, it's the rest that might be a problem. And they'll be better equipped to get the car unstuck in any case. You took the 95, right?"_

"Yeah, it's that tiny rest stop just past the border. And don't make it more complicated than it needs to be. Just because they don't have to shut down the interstate for you anymore doesn't mean you have to jump in the middle of every little thing that happens."

" _That's what parents do, Douglas. Especially when the 'little thing' could have gone a lot worse. Keep us updated. We love you both."_

Douglas sighed as he lowered the phone.

"You lied to her," TJ commented.

"Newsflash, not the first time."

"I mean you've really gone out of your way to avoid mentioning drugs or picking me up at the club, to anyone."

"Maybe I thought the fact that she was already freaked out about letting us go to the party and then drive ourselves home was enough reason to avoid scaring her more. The Petersons just didn't need to know. It's not like I want to broadcast that you do this stuff. And besides, what's to say it wasn't just a really bad stomach bug?"

The expression on TJ's face floated somewhere between gratitude, guilt, and just plain relief. "I really am sorry I dragged out this whole mess."

"I would do anything I could for you, you know that."

"I know. I just wish you didn't have to." TJ settled back down, apparently drained for the moment. Douglas punched in the numbers for the next call.

" _911, what is your emergency?"_ said the female voice on the other end.

"Hi, my brother and I were at a party last night, and we tried to get home before the storm got too bad, but we got stranded."

" _Are you in a safe place?"_

"Yeah, we got to the rest stop off of 95 going south, so we've had food, water, heat, no problem. It's the one by the Virginia state line. Our car's probably buried at this point. But my brother got sick, we don't know if it was something he ate or what. We got a hold of our parents, and they wanted us to call you."

" _A good suggestion on your parents' part, we want as many people as possible to stay off the roads for the time being. Can you tell me how your brother is doing right now?"_

"He's awake, a lot better than he was last night. Hasn't tried to eat or drink much for a few hours."

TJ threw him a petulant look.

" _Was he throwing up, or anything else?"_

"Pretty much everything," Douglas told her, mouthing 'Sorry' to TJ. "He was really shaky, maybe dizzy, felt like he had a fever for a while."

" _Did he ever lose consciousness?"_

"He dozed off some, and we just got a couple hours of sleep. No passing out or anything, though."

" _Keep trying to push fluids, even small amounts at a time, but don't force it if he can't keep anything down. And I know it sounds backwards, but try to keep him as warm as possible. I'll pass what you've told me on to the EMTs. We'll get help to you as soon as possible, okay? Do you need me to stay on the line?"_

"How long do you think it'll take?"

" _The nearest station is about 20 minutes away from you, probably a bit longer to get through the snow. Highway Patrol is going to be closer to an hour to get a tow truck."_

"I think we'll be okay until then. Like I said, he seems to be doing better."

" _Can I get a phone number in case the officers or EMTs need to reach you?"_

Douglas gave her both cell phone numbers, and they hung up. "Well, now we wait some more. How's your stomach feeling? Think you could try some more water?"

"I can work on it. Did you really have to share the details?"

"It's called an emergency for a reason, I think they need to know how bad it is if they're sending an ambulance out to you. Just work on the water thing, we're almost out of here. I for one will take a moment to relish the idea of making it to an actual bed…" He realized he had spent the entirety of both conversations on his feet pacing, and sat down again.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Final chapter! I will admit I'm not entirely sure why I ended up writing this from an outside perspective; maybe just to get that different view of the situation after being so up close and personal. Anyway, thanks for reading, guys, and I hope you enjoyed it overall!**

* * *

Elaine twisted her gloves between her hands as flashing lights came into view. It was fully light out now, allowing them to take in the whole endeavor. There was the tow truck, which had just pulled a white Mustang from the impressive snowdrift around it, two patrol cars blocking the exit lane, a snow plow, which seemed to be preparing to leave, and an ambulance of course. Her heart leapt into her throat as they passed the scene by. Bud took one of her hands in a firm grip.

"We'll be over there before you know it, Sugar," he said. "He just has to catch the next exit to swing around. The professionals have everything under control."

"But we don't know that for sure from here," she lamented. "Half the night all alone in a drafty way station, with TJ sick, heaven only knows what that meant, and no supplies to speak of. We should have said no to the party, made them come home with us when we heard the weather forecast."

"Sugar, they're not three-year-olds anymore. We got lucky and had the Secret Service to keep them reigned in for eight years. The vast majority of parents don't get that luxury. They're going to want to take on life for themselves, make their own decisions, and all we can do is teach 'em what we can and wait for them to come home."

"There was a real possibility they wouldn't have come home in this case! They could have been seriously hurt, or—"

"Shhh, you're gettin' carried away with yourself. They'll be smiling and laughing when we get there, just you see."

It was strange only having two cars on the trip, one for them and an agent in the front, and one with the other agent and a staff member who had offered to take the boys' car back, if it was drivable. They looped around the exit easily, and within a couple minutes had stopped in front of the patrol cars at the rest stop.

"I'm sorry, sir, the facility is temporarily closed," said one of the troopers.

"Excuse me!" Eliane called out, before her window was fully rolled down. "Our apologies, Officer. Perhaps you recognize myself and my husband. We've usually been accompanied by much more obvious transportation. Those are our sons in there."

"The apology is all mine, Ma'am, Sir. Give us just a minute to move the cars, and we'll let you in."

Someone had shoveled parts of the walk in front of the little building to allow for easier maneuvering. Both of them practically ran to the glass doors. The inside was in absolute disarray—clothes and blankets strewn around, plus the EMT gear, and the crew themselves huddled around a lowered gurney.

"Mom! Dad!" Douglas waved them over. He was wrapped in one of those silver emergency blankets, clearly exhausted but otherwise fine, leaning across the gurney from the wall side. TJ smiled wearily at them from under his own cover, one arm exposed with an IV secured to it.

"My boys, thank God you're okay!" exclaimed Elaine, rushing between the EMTs to hug both teenagers at once. She couldn't begin to describe her relief at being able to feel how warm and solid and alive they were. Douglas embraced her in return.

"I told you we were doing fine," he reassured her.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't still worried sick." She pulled back just enough to take full stock of TJ's condition. "How are you feeling, sweetie? Do they need to take you to the hospital or anything?"

He was noticeably paler than usual except for a stark purple welt above his left temple, eyes shadowy and hair sticking in odd angles from yesterday's gel and dried sweat. His temperature might be a little high, but not by much. Under the blanket, he was back in his unbuttoned dress shirt with a t-shirt underneath that.

"We figure it was just short-term stomach bug or something similar," one of the technicians explained. "He was dehydrated, so we're giving him some fluids, and they reported a slip in the bathroom at one point—"

"He just got dizzy for a minute," Douglas cut in. Elaine's eyes went wide.

"Minor bump on the forehead, and a small cut on one hand, that's all. Anyway, we don't see any reason why you can't just take both of them home. Get them some real food, hot showers, and a good long rest, they'll bounce back in no time."

"Thank you all so much. We can't begin to thank you enough," lauded Bud.

"You've got resourceful boys, Mr. President; it's them you should be praising," said the other tech, though both were clearly in awe at the present and unexpected company. "Douglas here did everything he was supposed to, given what they had to work with. I would, however, recommend putting a few sandbags in that trunk of yours to get a little better traction on the winter roads."

Blushing wildly, Douglas nodded.

Elaine eyed the IV bag, which was not quite half empty. "How much longer do you think he'll need that?"

"For now the more, the better, but he doesn't have to have all of it. We'll need to take care of some paperwork, and the troopers will probably want to complete a report as well, but names will be kept need-to-know only. He should be good to go once everything's squared away," replied the first tech.

"How 'bout you take them, Sugar, I'll take the officers," Bud suggested. "Dougie, I know you've had a long night, but think you can get all this cleaned up so we can get it to the cars?"

Douglas nodded, giving TJ's knee a squeeze before standing up. "Yessir. Some of the stuff might not be all the way dry, just so you know for when we get home."

"We'll come to that when we get there. Come on, I think it's time you boys got some real rest."

Once the formalities were taken care of, their things loaded, and the boys bundled up warmly, everyone started heading out. The staffer had already left with the Mustang. Bud helped support TJ to one car, where Elaine climbed into the middle to sit between their sons, before taking his own seat in the second car.

"I'm really sorry about all of this," TJ said meekly. He fussed with the medical tape around his elbow, trying to keep it or the gauze from peeling up.

"We both are," Douglas seconded.

"The important thing is it's over, and you're both safe and sound. That's all your father and I can ask." Elaine slipped an arm around each of them, hugging them close again. To her surprise, they didn't squirm or complain about being too old for such affection. And before too long, they were both fast asleep on her shoulders. No matter how big they got, she would always cherish moments like this when she could get them.

Fin!


End file.
